


Brother's Keeper

by sassmaster_tiresias



Category: Shades of Magic - V. E. Schwab
Genre: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Soul Bond, kell and lila are just there for a hot second
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-09
Updated: 2018-09-09
Packaged: 2019-07-08 20:48:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,920
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15938003
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sassmaster_tiresias/pseuds/sassmaster_tiresias
Summary: Rhy does not smile, does not wink.  That is all the signal Alucard needs.





	Brother's Keeper

It’s a moment that Alucard has been preparing himself for since he watched the dark sails of the _Night Spire_ disappear down the Isle.  He’d stood a respectful step behind Rhy until he’d noticed the king’s white-knuckled grip on the balcony rail.  Then, he’d swept forward, sliding his fingers in between Rhy’s, standing sentinel as Rhy allowed himself a moment of grief, of jealousy, of longing.  They’d stared together at the horizon long after the ship had vanished, until finally Rhy heaved a deep breath, straightened his spine, and turned back into the palace, pulling Alucard into step beside him.

That had been three weeks ago.  In the interlude, Rhy has become more accustomed to being king with every passing day.  There are still moments of uncertainty, sure, but Rhy spent his entire life playing a role, and he is good at hiding them.  The general public never notices, never would, they look at him and saw their beloved prince, now king.  Alucard sees, and Tieren and Isra, but he suspects they are part of the few.  Part of the privileged few, as well, who get to bear witness to Rhy overcoming those obstacles, steeling himself into a formidable king.

Nights like these are some of Alucard’s favorites.  Rhy has always thrived at balls, and although the demeanor of a king might be necessarily different than that of a young prince, it is still a situation in which he is comfortable in his own skin.

The whole affair is much less formal than the balls of the Essen Tasch, which Alucard thinks is probably for the best.  The memory of the ensuing tragedy still haunts the halls of the palace.  As the _vestra_ and _ostra_ made their way in tonight, they were clearly ill at ease.  Only after Rhy entered, pouring on the charm and plying his guests with the best drinks available, did they begin to relax.  By now, the quiet din of chattering voices flows just below the level of the music, filling the hall around them. 

Alucard has drifted slightly over the course of the night, although he remains ever in orbit of his king.  Unfortunately, the Emery name follows him despite his renouncement of it, and the Arnesian nobles still seek his attention as they always have.  Even still he manages to maintain his smile, especially when he catches the sound of Rhy’s laugh through the crowd.

In one of these instances, Alucard glances across just in time to see Rhy with his head tilted back, eyes closed as he smiles.  The women crowded around him are hopelessly fawning.  Rhy touches one gently on the arm, making her blush with just that simple gesture.  Alucard sympathizes completely.

Just before he tears his gaze away, it happens.  It is subtle, most likely none of the doting women caught it, but even from a distance Alucard sees the change in Rhy.  It is there in the tightening of his fingers around the stem of his glass, the sudden tension that racks through him, the panic in his widening eyes.

Alucard takes an aborted step forward, a whispered, “Excuse me,” to the group around him.  He pauses, waiting to see if it was just a passing moment, if Rhy is going to wave him off.  Instead, the king’s eyes flash up, scanning the crowd until they find Alucard’s.  He does not smile, does not wink.  That is all the signal Alucard needs.

He surges through the gathered nobles, moving past like a gust of air until he is at Rhy’s side.  He reaches for the king’s elbow, slipping in with his back slightly turned to the ladies crowded around them. 

“Your Majesty, if I could speak to you for just a moment?” Alucard says, just loud enough for the others to hear.

When Rhy speaks, there is only a hint of strain in his voice, but it is enough to speed the beat of Alucard’s heart.  Rhy drags a smile across his lips, putting on his best face for his people.  “Of course.  Ladies, if you’ll excuse us.”  He turns with Alucard, handing his glass off to a servant and holding onto Alucard’s arm, his grip so tight it hurts.

As they make their way out of the ballroom, Alucard puts on his best “Captain Emery” glower and gestures to one of the guards along the wall.  He moves swiftly after them, holding the door open for Alucard to usher Rhy through.

In the corridor, Rhy begins to let out a pained gasp, biting it back when he sees the _vestra_ couple lingering outside.  He straightens with the knowledge that there are still eyes on him, his grip on Alucard’s arm growing ever tighter.

All sense of propriety forgotten, Alucard reaches across with his far arm, taking Rhy’s hand in his own and wrapping the other around the king’s waist.  He pulls Rhy a half step closer and marches on.  Rounding the corner, he reaches out to what he knows is a small sitting room (for reasons that involve entirely appropriate behavior for the King of Arnes).

“Guard this door, do not let anyone enter,” Alucard commands the guard on his heels even as he gently guides Rhy inside.  The man nods solemnly, one hand coming to rest on his royal short sword as he turns his back to the door.

Rhy’s legs give out the moment the latch clicks behind them.  Alucard is already there, catching him with arms around his waist.

Even as they stumble together towards the gleaming gold sofa, Rhy is gasping, “Kell.”  He collapses onto the cushions, trying weakly to catch his crown as it tumbles from his head, only for Alucard to snatch it up just before it hits the floor.

Alucard tosses the crown aside as he falls to his knees.  Rhy has curled forward around himself, tears dribbling down his cheeks despite his best efforts to keep them back.  The glowing threads that bind him to Kell flicker once as Alucard watches, his own heart nearly stopping at the sight.  The connection pulses bright a moment later, power coursing down the lines.

Rhy’s face is slick with sweat and tears when Alucard tries to wipe his cheeks.  “Rhy, darling, tell me what’s wrong.”

All Rhy can seem to bring himself to say is, “Kell.  It’s Kell.”  He holds one arm across his stomach as the other hand presses to the scar on his chest, as if he can reach out to his brother through it.

Hoping that the guard does his job at the door, Alucard pushes Rhy’s arm aside and begins undoing the buttons on the king’s embroidered coat.  It’s a true sign of how much pain Rhy is in that he can’t bring himself to make a joke as Alucard pushes his tunic up.

He knows there will be no wound there, no blood seeping from Rhy’s skin.  Still, Alucard checks, running his fingers across the flesh of Rhy’s stomach, drifting briefly across the fading scar on his ribs.

When he looks up again, hands coming to rest on Rhy’s feverish neck, Rhy is muttering to himself, “Don’t you dare, Kell.  Not now.  It hasn’t even been a month, we can’t possibly be done yet.”

“No,” Alucard declares.  “You’re fine, you’re both going to be fine.”  As he holds Rhy’s shaking hand, he says a prayer to any power there is, any that will listen, and somewhere along the way he’s noticed that one word has snuck in.

_Delilah._

“Save them,” Alucard whispers, pressing his lips to Rhy’s brow, holding him close for lack of anything else to do.  Somewhere across the world, Kell is bleeding, and Arnes’ king is suffering here in his lover’s arms.

They are silent as they hold each other, Rhy’s head cradled in the crook of Alucard’s neck.  Then suddenly, Rhy gasps, his grip tightening on the back of Alucard’s coat.  Alucard chokes on his own breath at the sound, pulling back enough to see Rhy’s face.  Instead of the rigid expression of pain he’s worn since they entered the room, though, Rhy is now awash with relief.  He opens his eyes to Alucard’s furrowed brow and a shaky smile eases across the king’s face.

“It’s okay,” Rhy sighs.  He allows himself to remain in the circle of Alucard’s arms, resting their foreheads together.  “Look at you, Luc, you worry too much.”  He leaves a playful kiss on the bridge of Alucard’s nose.

At that, Alucard can’t help a chuckle.  “Oh, well, excuse me, Your Majesty.  Next time your fool brother goes and gets himself stabbed, or _whatever_ that was, I’ll just leave you to your own devices.”  Even with his teasing, though, he smooths one hand up the back of Rhy’s neck and pulls him in, kissing him until Rhy’s tired smile forces them to stop.

Rhy’s fingers trace the swirling scars on the back of Alucard’s hand as he whispers, “Thank you, my love.”

Alucard captures Rhy’s fingers in his own, lifts them and kisses his palm.  His lips are still only a hair’s breadth away as he responds, “I’m sorry that I can’t do more.”

Rhy twists their hands, returns the gesture.  “Being here is all that I could ever ask.”

They stand together, sharing one final kiss before they return to the celebration down the hall.  Rhy lifts his chin for Alucard to replace his crown, smiling when he pauses to fix a stray curl.  Alucard uses his velvet cuff to wipe Rhy’s cheek.

When they step into the ballroom, it’s as if none of the last few minutes ever happened.  Rhy steps into the room with just a fleeting touch to Alucard’s hand.  He is already beaming, stepping into the revelry like he never left.  Alucard hangs back in the shadows, watching Rhy, wishing things could be easier.  But when Rhy turns back looking for him, cocking a brow in question, nodding for Alucard to step forward, he comes without question. 

Half a world away, Delilah Bard sighs, offering Kell a blood-slicked hand.  “What did I tell you about flashing your gold in ports like these?”

Kell still holds a protective arm across his stomach as Lila pulls him to his feet. “Not to,” he grumbles, picking at the mix of both their blood staining his slashed shirt.  His other hand is clenched around the Arnesian seal pin in his pocket, the trinket that had caused the problem in the first place.  Now, there are two dead men at his feet and he can still feel the power of Lila’s _As Hasari_ pulsing through his blood.

After a beat, Lila smacks his own hand away, pressing hers to Kell’s stomach just to make sure the deep gash has actually healed.  “Good,” she says quietly.  “Now perhaps you’ll have learned your lesson.”  She darts up on her toes, a kiss so quick he almost misses it brushing across his cheek.

Back in Lila’s ( _their_ ) cabin aboard the _Night Spire_ , Kell watches from the bed as Lila charts their course, muttering to herself at the desk.  He turns his pin over and over in his palm, taking comfort in the weight of it and the beat of Rhy’s heart, steady behind his own.  He ceases his fidgeting.  Clutching the seal, he presses his fist to his chest, above the mark he shares with Rhy.  His apology is silent, but he hopes it finds its way across the miles between them.  Perhaps, Rhy can feel it vibrating the threads the bind them.

**Author's Note:**

> I have a sequel/companion piece planned for this, from Kell's side of things (sort of). So just prepare yourselves for more Rhy and Alucard loving each other and also Lila being exasperated just... all the time. Seriously, these boys.


End file.
